


Plant my Roots

by malhagie



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Body Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, adam parrish turns into a tree, references to assult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malhagie/pseuds/malhagie
Summary: Ronan was deep inside a forgien forest. He carefully stepped through the undergrowth. He parted the ferns with the stick Opal had given him.Near the base of a tree was a small area where no ferns grew. Ronan approached. The shape was strange. Ronan drew closer. The shape the space in the ferns made was familiar but he could not place what it was.He paused a strange feeling creeping over him. He carefully approached, and then the shape resolved in his mind. It was a human body. Ronan reached out with his stick, parting the ferns.He revealed a dirty foot covered in the dark soil.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Plant my Roots

Ronan was deep inside a forgien forest. He carefully stepped through the undergrowth. The trees here grew tall and sparse. They were spaced far apart and their trunks were large. Still dappled sunlight danced across the forest floor. Light darted across the ferns. 

Ronan walked through a sea of dancing leaves. He parted the ferns with the stick Opal had given him. The forest floor was dark brown and slightly damp. It was streaked through with red clay. 

He stopped for a second and glanced around. In the distance he could Opal ran around trees, chasing butterflies. Chainsaw called out into the forest and Opal returned it, a joyful cry.

Near the base of a tree was a small area where no ferns grew. Ronan approached. The shape was strange. Ronan drew closer. The shape the space in the ferns made was familiar but he could not place what it was.

He paused a strange feeling creeping over him. He carefully approached, and then the shape resolved in his mind. It was a human body. Ronan reached out with his stick, parting the ferns. 

He revealed a dirty foot covered in the dark soil. 

What he was seeing seemed to jump from image to image like it sometimes did in Cabeswater. For a second he saw a foot made out of clay, not human flesh and blood. An illusion caused by the color of the person’s skin, it was the same color as the Virginia soil that Ronan was more familiar with. They were covered in the dark soil of this part of the forest.

He stepped closer, and parted more of the ferns. He saw the person’s face, it was a man. His head rested against the base of the large tree, his body sprawled among the ferns. He had reddish brown hair the color of dirt that was choppy and dirty. He was slight with long, lanky limbs. He’s wearing faded blue overalls and a red t-shirt underneath. He was covered in small leaves and pieces of plant matter.

Ronan stepped closer. He crouched down by the man’s head to get a good look at his face. His eyes focused on one of the pieces of plant matter on the man’s face and what he then saw froze him like icy water. It was a strange amalgamation of flora and fauna. It was alien and unreal.

The man had cuts and scrapes all over his skin. He had a split lip and a scrape on the opposite side of his face. Out of the bloody depths of the open wound on his lip grew a small sprout, a sapling. It’s white stem emerged from the bloody depths of the wound, it turned green and sprouted two heart shaped leaves. The scape on the side of his head grew two smaller saplings at its deepest points. There were purpling bruises on the man's neck where bunches of dark green moss grew. 

Ronan reached out with his hand. His fingers stopped just above the man’s cheek.

“Hello?” he tried, his voice sounding small.

The man did not stir.

Ronan watched the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest. Raised his hand up under the man’s nose to feel the air flowing in and out.

“Hello?” Ronan tried louder. 

No response.

He reached out and tentatively touched the man’s shoulder. He could feel the gentle warmth of him through his clothing.

The man still did not respond.

Ronan tentatively touched the man’s face. He asked louder and gently shook the man’s shoulders. He showed no signs of consciousness. His breath remained deep and slow.

Ronan stepped back. He looked the man up and down. He was covered in small injuries with small plants growing from the wounds. Sprouts grew from open bloody scrapes and moss grew over deep bruises.

Ronan stood studying the man as Opal wondered over. She examined the man for a few short moments.

“He smells like the forest. Like the trees!” she ended it with a twirl, arms spread wide to the forest around him. Not distrubed the slightest. 

“Help me carry him,” Ronan said.

“Okay,” Opal said, while she continued to twirl.

Ronan crouched down by the man’s shoulders and went to lift him up. He was met with mild resistance. He paused. He looked down at the ground and saw that the wounds on the back of the man’s body had sprouted small white roots. They reached into the damp soil beneath.

Ronan’s stomach lurched. Opal tugged on one of his legs. He shooed her away. Very carefully he began to lift up the man’s arm. As gently as possible he pulled up the roots attaching the man to the ground. He then freed the rest of his limbs.

Once he was free Ronan got Opal to lift the man’s ankles as he lifted the man by the shoulders. With Ronan leading the way, they slowly made their way back to the house. They placed him on the couch downstairs, headless of how dirt covered the man was.

Ronan crouched down by the couch as Opal wandered off. Ronan examined him closely, his revulsion at the sight of the plants quelled. The man was fair boned, with delicate, angular features. He was tanned with a smattering of near invisible freckles across his face, like stars. 

Ronan was entranced. He was beautiful.

Ronan looked closely at a small sprout coming out of a gash on the man’s forearm. The small green sprout emerged from the seeping wound. He looked closely at the root, trying to see how the plant connected to the man. At its base the sprout was white. It began to turn pale pink as it came to the red of the wound. It grew from the open wound like a tree from the forest floor, little roots branching out.

Experimentally Ronan reached out and gently nudged the sprout. It did not appear to be growing  _ inside _ him like Ronan had hoped but  _ from _ him, directly out of his skin, not roots he could pull out. 

Ronan got a damp washcloth from the kitchen and began to wash the dirt from the man’s face. The more Ronan looked at him the more entranced he became by the man’s strange beauty.

He found himself staring, lost in thought. He realized that the wash cloth would not cut it. He had done half the man’s face, careful not to disturb the sprout growing straight up out of the side of his head and it was already streaked with dried blood and black soil. As gently as possible he picked up the man and carried him to the bathroom, gently placing him down in the bathtub. 

Ronan set him down and looked at his arm. Besides the fresh scrapes and bruises that covered his arms he also had older scars. He sees by the pattern of the dirt that the roots were growing out of parts of skin that had been pressed into the dirt. A large clump grew from a horrid gash on his hand.

Ronan didn’t feel comfortable stirpping the man down so he left him in his clothes. He didn't appear to have any cuts or injuries beneath them. Ronan used the sprayer head on the shower to begin to wash away the soil and dried blood from the man's feet. Ronan moved up his body watching the dark soil swirl away down the drain. Once he was finished Ronan sat on the bathroom floor next to the tub. He wondered how he got these injuries. __

_ Who did this to him? How did it happen? What sort of magic did this? Was it hurting him? Was it helping him? _

Ronan reached out to grasp the man’s hand. He had fine bones and jutting knuckles. The pads of his palms were rough and calloused. 

Ronan gently squeezed the man’s hand. He squeezed back.

Ronan dropped his hand quickly and jumped back. He looked at the man’s face. He looked the same as ever, nothing in his expression had changed.

Tentatively Ronan reached out. He grasped the man’s limp hand. He squeezes his hand again and the man squeezes back.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Ronan tried. He shook his shoulders.

The man did not respond. 

Ronan began to get a bit frustrated. He got down by the man’s face and pried one of his eyes open. All he sees is white then the eyeball rolls and blue eye was looking at him. Ronan jumped away.

The man blinked a few times, his dusty eyelashes wet. He opens his eyes and focuses on Ronan. Ronan reached for the man’s hand. It clasped it and gently squeezed. The man’s expression changes ever so slightly, he squeezes back. The man let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. After a few moments his breathing slowed. He was asleep.

Ronan sat back on his heels, staring at the man’s face. The memory of the man’s eyes replayed in his head. They were blue like a cerulean sky. After a while he roused himself from the floor.

He went to corral Opal and got her to bed. The man had not moved, and his clothing was starting to dry. Ronan thought he must have been hungry and thirsty. He got some water and opened the man’s mouth. He carefully dripped water into the man’s mouth, keeping his head angled so it would not go down his windpipe. Very slowly he gave the man water.

Ronan is turned away when suddenly he is aware of the man’s gaze. His eyes are open, focused intensely on Ronan.

“Aqua,” the man says.  _ Water. _

Ronan lifts the glass to the man’s lips and pours the water into his mouth. The man swallow’s hungrily. He sighs contently when the water was gone. His eyes flit over to look at Ronan’s face.

“Who are you?” Ronan asks. His voice sounds small to him.

“Adam,” he says. 

_ The first man, shaped from clay. _

“Adam,” Ronan likes how it feels in his mouth, “My name is Ronan.”

“Ronan,” Adam said, returning the gesture.

Adam slowly blinked his eyes. He raised up his hand to clasp Ronan’s wrist. His palm is rough against the sensitive skin of Ronan’s wrist.

“Where did you find me? What have you done with me?” Adam asked in a level voice. 

“You were in Cabeswater. I brought you home,” Ronan replied.

A crease appeared between Adam’s eyebrows.

“Cabeswater?” He asked.

“The forest.”

“This is not the forest. What have you done with me?” Adam asked. His voice wavered.

“I brought you inside. I-I put you the the bathtub and washed you off,” Ronan explained.

“Washed me off. You gave me water.” Adam said, then more urgent, “I need more water.”

“Okay,” Ronan nodded. 

He tried to move but Adam still had a firm grasp on Ronan’s wrist.

Ronan reached for his hand. His beautiful hand. Thin and delicate fingers. Nobby and boney with visible veins and ligaments. Freckles and scars, plants and roots. Red seeping wounds, where tiny sprouts grew green leaves.

Adam released Ronan’s wrist. His hand fell down. He relaxed into the tub. Ronan took the cup to the sink and filled it with water.He returned to Adam and held the cup up to his mouth. Slowly poured it into Adam;s mouth. Adam lapped deeply, swallowing all the water. Ronan watched Adam’s throat move as he swallowed down the water hungrily. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his thin throat. There was dark green moss growing in a circle around his throat, like someone had choked him. Suddenly Ronan is very angry. 

“Aqua,” Adam said quietly, “aqua.”

Ronan stands up a little two quickly, looking away from Adam.

_ What happened to him? How was he injured? _

He got Adam another glass of water.

“My roots,” Adam said, lifting up his hand. His palm facing him, looking at the roots growing from the wounds, “They need water too.”

Ronan nodded, he turned the water on in the tub, setting it to lukewarm. He plugs up the tub. Adam sighs and sinks down into the tub, his eyes closed. He places his feet under the stream of water. His hands reach out for the water. He sighs.

“Thank you,” he said, “How will I ever repay you…”

Adam trailed off, his eyes quickly falling shut. His breathing slowed. He was asleep. Ronan shut the water off as it began to cover Adam’s neck and shoulders.

“Fuck,” he fell back, sitting down on the bathroom floor, Adam hidden behind the lip of the tub.

Ronan looked after Adam. He stayed in the bathroom all night. He had on a chair he had dragged in, watching Adam closely for any movement or change in breathing. He drained the water and filled it again when the water grew cold. He drifted in and out of sleep, careful in his dreams.

“Are you still here?” Opal asks him in the morning. 

He throws one last glance at Adam before getting up to make her breakfast. When he returns to the bathroom the sun is shining brightly through the small window. Adam’s eyes are open. His lips are a thin line but his eyes are bright. He looks more awake than he had before. Ronan approaches the tub. They watch each other sin silence for a short time.

Ronan approaches the tub. They look at each other for a little bit.

“You took me out of the forest,” Adam observes.

“I did,” Ronan said. “You were injured, I was worried.”

Adam didn’t respond, but continued to stare.

“What happened?” Ronan asked quietly.

Adam was looking at Ronan but his eyes were not focused on Ronan’s face. He looked troubled, his gaze far away. He stays like this for too long, looking disconnected.

“Adam?” Ronan asked. 

He snaps back.

“Nutrients,” Adam says slowly, feeling the word carefully in his mouth. “I need sustenance. My roots need soil.”

“Your roots need soil,” Ronan mumbled back.

“I need to return to the forest.” Adam said. He looked faraway again. But this time intense, hungry and yearning.

Silence hovered in the air. Ronan didn’t want to take him back to the forest.

“Do you want some food? Like a sandwich?” he hesitantly asked.

“Sandwich?” Adam asked. He appeared amused, “A sandwich…”

He trailed off again and fell asleep.

Ronan made a sandwich and stored it in the fridge, just in case. He continued to check in on Adam throughout the day. He keeps him watered. He prepares a patch of dirt in the garden underneath a tree.

When Adam doesn’t wake up again, even when Ronan shakes him, Ronan picks him up and takes him out to the yard. He tells Opal not to disturb him and he can tell she will take his request seriously. He places Adam in the dirt, laying him down so that the roots sprouting from him were on the soil. 

Over the next few days Ronan hovers around Adam. He watches as Adam’s roots attach to the soil. The sprouts continue to grow. The moss spreads/

The sun rises one morning after it rains and Adam opens his eyes.

“Thank you Ronan.” Adam says, “I am nourished.”

“You’re welcome,” Ronan crouches down over Adam, so he blocked out the sun from his eyes.

“I appreciate your generosity,” Adam said. He was almost smiling.

“No big deal,” Ronan says, “I wanted to help you.”

“Ronan, the forest. You called it Cabeswater.” Adam said.

“Yeah?” Ronan asked.

“ _ I necesse est redire, _ ” Adam whispered.

_ I must return. _

“Why?” Ronan asked suddenly. “What’s happening to you?”

“Cabeswater. I promised myself to Cabeswater.”

“Why, why did you do that?” Ronan asked, suddenly speaking loud, his voice full of concern, “You’re growing plants! How did you get injured.”

Adam looked confused.

“Don’t worry, the forest will protect me.” he said.

“It will?” Ronan asked. On his knees, begging for answers. His face hovered above Adam’s.

“Yes, I must return to the forest, Cabeswater. I must protect Cabeswater and Cabeswater must protect me.” 

“Okay, okay,” Ronan said.

He reached out to touch Adam’s face. Adam looked deep into Ronan’s eyes before he drifted back to sleep.

Ronan finds a clearing. One close to the house. It is a small area between trees covered in grass. Carefully Ronan picked Adam up, having to free his roots from the ground again. He placed Adam in the middle of the clearing, clearing the grass away and placing his hands on the damp soil.

Ronan checked on him every day. Always in the morning as the sun rises and fills the clearing, sunlight striking Adam’s face. Adam slowly takes root. His sprouts continue to grow into saplings.

Every so often Adam wakes up. Always at sunrise. He smiles at Ronan. His blue eyes are dazzling. Ronan watches as his hands, his beautiful hands, are covered by roots and soil. The saplings grow. They begin to cover Adam.

His face remains serene, tranquil, and deeply asleep. Slowly moss covers it as the saplings grow into trees. Eventually the trees grow so large they fuse together becoming one giant tree. It stands tall and proud, growing to be the tallest tree in all of Cabeswater.


End file.
